NDE
by Chill
Summary: The continuation of Anthropomorphic Personifiwotsits and my second convo including Death.


  
  
  
NDE  
  
"Herb get off'f it!"  
"No it's mine!"  
"Mine!"  
"MINE!"  
"MI-OOCH..!"  
"Melissa? MELISSA? ARE YOU OKAY?"  
"Yeah I'm okay, it's just a cut on the head."  
"SPEAK TO ME!"  
"Are you listening to a word I say?"  
"MELISSAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"  
It dawned on Melissa that something was not quite right and as she looked down she realised it was probably the fact that she was watching her unconscious body. It's head was bleeding like crazy.  
"Oh," she said. Everything started to get fuzzy. Then it went pitch-black, then it went fuzzy again, then her life flashed before her eyes, then suddenly there was a flood of light which gradually dimmed so that she could see properly. She blinked. She closed her eyes. When she re-opened them she discovered that she was sitting down, a green visor over her fringe, a cigarette in her fingers and seven cards in her hand. She closed her eyes again. On re-opening, not only was nothing gone, but there was a chair under her, she was resting her elbows on a green-felt covered, small, square table and opposite her was a seven foot skeleton grinning at his own cards. This wasn't because he was happy with his cards or anything of the sort, just that there isn't much choice for a skeleton when it comes to facial expressions. The skeleton was wearing a long robe. There was a scythe leaning on the table. She closed her eyes. She opened them. Nothing had changed. She tried again. Her surroundings obstinately remained the same. She stopped herself from doing it again and paused for thought. She decided the best thing to do would strike up conversation. For some reason she didn't feel scared. She didn't, come to think about it, feel anything.  
"Umm... hi," she came out with.  
GOOD EVENING. The words went straight to her brain without mucking about with all that business with the ears. His (she labelled it as a he, for what reason, she did not know) voice was like tombstones landing on the ground from a long way.  
YOU APPEAR TROUBLED.  
"Why do you say that?"  
FOR OBVIOUS REASONS.  
"Oh. Umm..."  
YES?  
"Who are you?"  
The skeleton grinned at her. GUESS.  
"Guess?"  
GUESS.  
"Umm... ok..."  
DO GO ON.  
"Well you look kind of like my aunty Margo..."  
WRONG. I THOUGHT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN EASY. WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE? WHAT AM I WEARING? WHAT TOOL DO YOU SEE BY THE TABLE? WHERE HAVE YOU SEEN ME BEFORE?  
Melissa thought for a moment putting the pieces together. She suddenly remembered a passage in a book she'd read and an illustration that came with it. The passage read; "There be two thyngs that be certayn yn lyf. The other being takses." She gulped. "Are you the Grim Reaper?" she whispered questioningly.  
Death nodded, Melissa wondered if his skull would fall off, but it didn't. THOSE WHO GET TO KNOW ME, THOUGH NOT NUMOROUS, he intoned, CALL ME DEATH.  
"But why am I hear?" asked Melissa.  
I THOUGHT CARDS WOULD BE A PLEASENT WAY TO PASS THE TIME, UNTIL YOU WAKE UP.  
"Wait a minute, did you say wake up?"  
I DID. IF IT IS ANY HELP, I SHALL REPEAT IT. 'UNTIL YOU WAKE UP'.  
"So, if I'm just asleep, why are you here?"  
YOU ARE NOT SLEEPING?  
"Am I in a coma?"  
NO.  
"Then what am I?"  
DEAD.  
"But you..."  
DO NOT TRY TO COMPREHEND, EVEN I HAVE TROUBLE WITH IT.  
"With what?!" Melissa thought he was playing with her, he did seem to be grinning a bit more than she'd imagined him to do when she was ali...awake.  
NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCES. USUALLY NEAR DEATH HANDLES THESE OCCASIONS, BUT HE WAS...NOT AVAILABLE.  
"So I'm dead."  
FOR THE TIME BEING, YES.  
"But I'm fifteen! Everyone in my class likes me! I'm too popular to die!*I have a life!"  
HAD. AND WILL HAVE. YOU MUST GET YOUR TENSES RIGHT WHEN DEAD.  
Melissa blinked. This had to be a dream. A seven foot skeleton had just told her to get her tenses right like a vulgar teacher. She pinched herself and didn't feel anything.   
DO NOT BOTHER BEING FOOLED BY THAT OLD TRICK, said Death wearily, YOU ARE A DISEMBODIED SPIRIT, WHAT I THERE TO FEEL?  
Melissa had to admit he had her stymied. "Ok", she started, "for now I'll agree that I'm dead-"  
BUT, ONLY TEMPORARILY.  
"-but, as you say, only temporarily. What I don't understand, aside from everything, is why I'm holding cards with unfarmiliar faces on them."  
I TOLD YOU, I THOUGHT CARDS WOULD BE A PLEASENT WAY TO PASS THE TIME UNTIL YOU WAKE UP, repeated Death, PERHAPS YOU WOULD RATHER A BOARD GAME? CHESS? DRAUGHTS? MONOPOLY?  
"Isn't that a Klatchian game?"  
IT IS.  
"Ah."  
WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE TO DO?  
"Cards is fine, cards is fine...but I don't get these faces."  
AH, YES THESE ARE CARDS FROM...SOMEWHERE ELSE.  
Melissa noticed the packet and picked it up. It had a rather interesting blue swirly pattern and something written on it...  
"Standard Bridge Playing Cards? What the hell?"  
I'M NOT VERY KEEN ON BRIDGE, NEVER CAN FIGURE OUT THOSE STRANGE TRUMP RULES. BUT I AM RATHER PARTIAL TO POKER.  
"Poker? Isn't that a Quirmian name?"  
NO. Death grinned mysteriously. I'M AFRAID I CANNOT TELL YOU WHERE IT IS FROM BUT I CAN PLAY WITH YOU.  
"Can you?" Melissa asked weakly.  
I TOLD YOU TO GET YOUR TENSES RIGHT.  
"Huh?"  
YOU ARE ABOUT TO WAKE UP, at this Death pulled a penknife with a skull and crossbones motif in it and flung it at Melissa's head. She disappeared. Death clicked his teeth. A skull white horse trotted down towards him. Everything else disappeared. Infact, it had never been there. He mounted Binky and with another click of the teeth trotted up into nothing and down into the stables.  
how did it go, asked noone in particular.  
COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE, I SUPPOSE. Death lingered there a second.   
you want to talk to me? asked noone in particular.  
CALL PESTILENCE, WAR AND FAMINE, said Death, I FEEL LIKE A GAME OF POKER.  
isn't that an ecksian game?  
NOT QUITE.  
  
Melissa woke up. She then grew up to introduce the game of Poker and became the first female member of the Guild of Gamblers and Lawyers. How she knew the rules, she never figured out.  
  
  
  
*And not, as most trolls and dwarfs use the expression, too young to die.  
  
Author's Note: So there you have it. My conversation numero dos. If you have any ideas or anything you wish me to include in a future convo, please say so in a review. 


End file.
